Unwholly
by StillGotTonight
Summary: Alone and abandoned, resident skank Kurt Hummel is determined escape life, even if it kills him. What he wasn't expecting was a reason to live to walk right into him, literally.
1. Chapter 1

For Kurt Hummel, life had been one misfortunate event followed by another. Such inopportune proceedings of his seventeen years of life had undoubtedly lead to his own existential existence.

He stopped believing at age fourteen. Stopped pretending that things would get better, stopped lying to himself that one day life would finally give him the tiniest of respites.

And with the start of his high school years, came the start of a new Kurt. The change hadn't been conscious, more of a slow development until it finally outwardly encompassed the inward troubled soul of a tortured teenage boy.

Kurt had been on his own since he was fourteen. His mother had already died and six years later Burt followed. Though to be perfectly honest, Burt wasn't dead, nonetheless it felt that way to his son. The accident had left the man with brain damage- trauma induced early onset dementia, they called it. Basically all it meant to Kurt was that he went home to a stranger every day. Some days were better than others, there were always those rare incidents of lucidity the teenager cherished.

Carol would stop by from time to time, insistent that they were still family. Kurt just thought she had some screwed up sense of obligatory familial instincts that would be better served towards her own son. He had survived on his own so far.

Survived being the operative word. Was it really living he was doing? Floating would be a more accurate representation of what his life had become, the saddest and thereby most important fact was that he didn't care. But he never expected for someone to come along who would make him start caring again.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: General disclaimer: I don't own anything, probably not even this idea, I'm just writing for fun, so I really hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Kurt flung himself out onto the surrounding grass of McKinley's football field in frustration, lamenting the fact that smoking was such an outdoorsy activity. He scrunched up his eyes irritably up at the sun and shoved his sunglasses harder against his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to block out the radiating rays of the sun that was way too fucking hot for Ohio in the first place.

He had already been kicked out of the bathroom for smoking, otherwise he'd be there now. Honestly, the trials and tribulations he had to go through just to get his fix of nicotine. He slowly dragged on the cigarette between his lips, blatantly ignoring the piercing ring of the bell that resounded across the school parking lot, signaling the official start of the first day of school.

Kurt smirked to himself as he watched students clamber towards the doors, frantically rushing to each of their respective cliques. Like ants following the queen or aliens to the mother ship, or, Kurt snorted ruefully at this one- Nazis following Hitler. But then again, the American public school system was just as corrupted, possibly on a higher scale. Some days Kurt didn't know why he even bothered coming to school, what difference would it make? They were all going to die anyway.

But at times like those, Kurt was always reminded of what force was pulling him out of bed each morning. And it was currently approaching him, pink hair, piercings and all.

"You're late." he told his best friend, replacing the cigarette back into his mouth.

"Shut the fuck up," Quinn said, seizing the cigarette out of his mouth and shoving it to her own lips.

Quinn Fabray was the closest thing Kurt had to family. That was, a family that wasn't vegetating on the couch, completely unresponsive and apathetic towards the world around them. Kurt often wondered what it would be like to lead such an impassive existence, but then was reminded of what that was every time he got high. A favorite pastime of the two Skanks.

Finding Quinn was like a God send, except Kurt didn't believe in God, or the fates or any other higher cosmic power. If either subsisted, well then, his life wouldn't be such a hell hole, would it? It comforted him at least to know that he was not alone in his suffering. Quinn was right there with him. She had gotten pregnant freshman year, abandoned by her parents and the supposed love of her life. After that she had become just like Kurt, a firm believer that life was pointless and unfair. They were both outcasts. Part of the infamous gang at McKinley known as the Skanks. They were quite notorious around the school, and including Quinn and Kurt, the group came to a total of two members. But for the two Skanks, two people was quite enough thank you very much. Perhaps this had something to do with their mutual hatred of any living thing that wasn't one another that prevented them forming new friendships.

They had a pretty good thing going on, Kurt and Quinn. Nobody else was required in Kurt's own perfectly imperfect continuation of the iniquitous anguish christened as life. That was how he would like to keep it. And then Quinn opened her fat mouth.

"Have you seen the new kid yet?" she asked casually from where they were seated, watching the last couple stragglers hurry into school.

Kurt turned his head over to her with an expression that read "Really?" under his sunglasses, one pierced eyebrow popped up from underneath those aviators, "And what makes you think I would be anywhere remotely near those sniveling snot rags?" referring to the general population of the high school.

Quinn shrugged, ignoring his clipped tone, she was used to his petulance, "He's hot."

It had never been officially established throughout the student body that the renowned Kurt Hummel was gay. All they really knew about him was that he never dated anyone and to stay away from him. At the beginning of every year Kurt got some obnoxious giggling freshmen girls whom had ignored the warnings and asked if he would ever want to go out with them. Usually he would simply glower at them and wait for them to leave, or push past them. He was untouchable and that's how he liked it. Only Quinn really knew that he was gay.

"Is that why you were late?" Kurt asked, keeping the interest out of his voice, "You were eye-fucking your new boy toy?"

Quinn returned with a knowing smirk "Wouldn't make a difference anyway, I hear that he plays for the other team."

'Damn her' Kurt thought, leave it to his best friend to know how to spark his curiosity and simultaneously his annoyance. Attempting to avoid just how interested he really was in the supposed hot new gay kid, Kurt said dramatically "Why must everyone use that euphemism? What's wrong with saying 'gay' it's not like you'll catch it if you say the word." But one glance at Quinn's face told him that she wasn't buying it for a second. "Whatever." he said bitterly, but at the same blushing under his pink streaked hair.

"You know, I'd make a joke about that" Quinn said with an evil little smirk on her face, "Butt fuck it."

"God." Kurt said, flopping backwards into the grass with a thump, "You're so immature."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for reading and please R&R! Reviews help the muse!**

* * *

It's not easy being the new kid. People think they automatically have the right to either pick on you or attempt to recruit you into their ranks of clique induced gangs. Blaine had already received offers from the Celibacy Club, Renaissance Club, The Muckraker, The Secret Society of Superheroes Club, Fruit Sculpture Club, and the Black Student Union (He wasn't so sure about that last one). This new school, William McKinley, Blaine determined, seemed to be populated of over eager club representatives due to the fact that the rest of the student body was so lax of school spirit, that the rare occurrence of a fresh face in the hallways was motivation for any and all attempts to enlist a new member to their already under populated school clubs.

The futile attempts continued throughout the day. Blaine was having a hard enough time trying to find his classes without peppy people bouncing up to him and proclaiming "Are you new here? Would you be interested in joining..." Fill in the blank.

But it was while he was at his locker trying to pry it open that a short, brown haired girl dressed in horrible knee socks came marching over to him. Before he could even open his mouth, the girl was already shouting into his face.

"I'm Rachel Berry and I couldn't help notice that you're new here by which I have concluded that you'd make a wonderful addition to the New Directions -that's our glee club- and if we hope to go to New York this year for Nationals, we'll need a twelfth member. So come by the choir room next lunch period an audition."

And with that Rachel Berry was marching away, leaving Blaine slightly confused and part excited. If there was one club he was excited about it would have to be the glee club. Singing was his life, the one thing that Blaine was perfect at.

Feeling considerably more excited about his new life at WMHS, Blaine shut his locker and jumped. Hidden behind his locker, glaring down at him was a tall track suit wearing woman. "Hobbit." she sneered at him "You have just made a powerful enema by joining Will Schuester's pathetic group of doughy misshapen mouth breathers. Be warned."

And then she was gone.

Now feeling very confused, Blaine shook it off and continued on to his next class, thinking hard about what song he would sing for his audition.

* * *

You know that feeling, when you're just so infuriated at other people's stupidity that you think you might actually explode? Well that was Kurt's life, day in and day out. Driven indoors by the unforgiving radiation of the sun, Kurt had already received four detentions for having his cigarette out. Not that it really mattered, both he and the teachers that gave him the detentions knew he wouldn't show up to them anyway.

As frustrating as it was, it wasn't anything that couldn't be cured by a friendly visit from his good pal: the cigarette.

Which was why Kurt was currently perched at the top of the stairs taking a long drag from his cigarette, intending on doing nothing more until he had to go home. And then he would just do the same thing at home until he had to go back to school and the cycle would start all over again.

He closed his eyes and blew out a long stream of smoke. And then he was almost trampled by a bowtie wearing dufus. "Watch where the fuck you're going bitch."

The geek turned around and Kurt was faced with golden honey eyes and dark curly hair. However he kept his face impassive. He knew who this must be. And Quinn was right, he was hot as fuck. Maybe he did dress a little nerdy, but there was disguising the underlying hotness.

"Sorry!" the guy said far to brightly, "I'm new here and I can't find the choir room and I'm late for an audition for glee club and hi I'm Blaine."

He said this all very quickly and Kurt remained silent, simply raising an eyebrow in response. Rachel Berry must have gotten to him and damn near forced him to join that pathetic little singing group of hers.

"So maybe you could help me find it please?" the geek added sounding hopeful.

Kurt remained quiet.

"Well, okay" the other guy said faltering, but he still kept his annoying smile in place, "I guess I'll see you around?"

Silence.

"Um, bye then."

"Third door on the right down the next hallway."

"Thank you!" he said sounding immensely relieved, "Um I'm sorry what was your name?"

But Kurt didn't say anything, instead he just replaced his cigarette and shooed him away. Deftly admiring his ass and he clambered down the stairs.


	4. Chapter 4

"Well, well, well."

Kurt jumped at the voice that came from behind him and instantly rolled his eyes when he realized who it was.

"Jesus Q, don't do that you'll give me a heart attack." he said placing his hand dramatically over his heart.

"Oh I forgot," Quinn replied, plopping down next to him, "You and your nicotine weakened heart."

Kurt was about to interject that he was pretty sure that it was the lungs that the cigarettes were harming, but Quinn continued talking.

"So enjoy the view?"

Kurt whipped his head back to the bottom of the stairs, disappointed to see that the nerdy new guy was already gone.

"I was not looking at him." Kurt said firmly, glaring back at his friend, flushing a pale pink.

"Yes you were."

"No."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not."

"Hot isn't he?"

"... Yes."

Quinn smirked, stealing Kurt's cigarette again. "At last someone has managed to seduce the great Kurt Hummel."

"Hey! First of all he has not _seduced_ me. And second- how do you even know that he's gay. Not that I care." He added quickly.

"Oh please," Quinn said, running a hand through her hot pink hair, "Have you seen the way Bowtie dresses?"

Kurt did not respond. Because he didn't care. He _didn't_ _care_ about this new guy. Even if he was really good looking and potentially gay.

"I need to take a piss." He said getting up, intending on getting far away from the girl.

"Let me know when you come to your senses!" Quinn called after him, "Or when you get a hot fuck from Suspenders, whichever comes first!"

* * *

Blaine's heart was racing. And it wasn't because he was about to perform a song in front of twelve people he didn't know. His mind was still racing from his encounter with the tall smoking boy from the staircase.

Blaine never had any problem announcing the fact that he was attracted to boys, and he certainly didn't have any difficulty in acknowledging that that guy, whoever he was, was sexy.

The tall boy was forever branded into his memory. He was beautiful. Tall and lean, with his toned muscles showing through his white T-shirt that was worn under a black leather jacket. The boy's brown hair was perfectly coifed and his skin was a beautiful alabaster. But it was the boy's eyes that were most striking- they were a mixture of blue, green, and grey, and seemed to hold a world of experiences. Blaine didn't know what it was, but there was something about the strange silent guy that interested Blaine. He was totally drawn to him. And he realized this would eventually cause a problem. But he couldn't think about this now. He needed to audition.

"Welcome Blaine Anderson." Rachel Berry was saying, if he wasn't so focused on mentally preparing his song, he would have asked how she knew his name. She kept talking, but Blaine heard none of it. He was still thinking about that guy and how... confident and intrigued he felt around him.

Eventually the silence reached his ears and Blaine realized that he was supposed to be singing right now.

Reigning in his performing confidence, Blaine launched into his song.

_If you want my body and you think I'm sexy_

Blaine went through the whole song, unconsciously thinking about that boy as he sung.

He finished and looked up to see everyone looking very happy. Blaine blew out a small sigh of relief, they thought he was good.

"Great job!" A curly headed man said as he clapped, "I think you'll make a wonderful addition to our club. Now how about we introduce you to the rest of the-"

"An excellent idea Mr. Schuester!" Rachel Berry had launched out of her chair and was now standing next to Blaine, a hand on his shoulder as she pointed out the other members.

"That guy over there: he's the _co _captain of the New Directions and is also my incredibly hot boyfriend Finn Hudson. Next to him that's Artie and Mercedes. And then we have Santana and Britney, Tina and Mike. Up there is Sam and Noah and Lauren Zizzes."

Blaine grinned, "Happy to be here! I can't wait for Nationals this year with you guys!"

The very tall and awkward looking guy whose name was Finn lumbered up to him and said "As part leader of this group I'd like to say: Welcome to the New Directions!"

* * *

Outside in the hallway Kurt was wandering the empty hallways after he escaped from Quinn. He realized too late that he had accidently walked by the choir room. Had he unconsciously moved to be closer to the new hot nerd?

... Nah.

But he had lingered for too long and was hearing music waft from the room.

_"Do you think I'm sexy"_

"Oh boy." Kurt said cursing the ironic lyrics, and making a mental vow to stay as far away as he could from the new guy. He couldn't let someone in again, he knew it would only end in heart break and soul smashing for him.

But he couldn't help but think to himself, _"Yes. I do think you're sexy."_

* * *

**A/N: Please review! And remember I own nothing.**


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey dad."

Kurt shut the door behind him and looked over to the couch, where it was customary to always see his father sitting.

Burt made no movement, made no sign of recognition. He rarely ever did.

"How was your day?"

Still nothing.

"Mine was okay too dad."

Zilch. Burt's expression remained just as impassive as if it had been painted on.

"You're hungry? Me too." And Kurt got up to go feed his father.

Every day was the same. Kurt would get home from school, and after having a one sided conversation with Burt, he would make the food, because God knows if he didn't they would both starve.

There was never anything fancy about their supply of food. Kurt had discovered long ago that you could survive on peanut butter and jelly for as long as five months. He wasn't so sure about anything longer than that, because by the time the sixth month had come around, he would have rather eaten out of the trash than see another peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"Here you go dad." Kurt sighed as he placed the plate in front of Burt. This time it was grilled cheese.

Kurt sat across from his father, eating his own grilled cheese, fruitlessly waiting for some sort of action. The minutes passed until Kurt finally said, "Are you going to eat or not? ... Hey, remember, you're hungry, don't you remember that?"

Burt hastily nodded to himself, muttering something that Kurt couldn't understand. But he nonetheless picked up the sandwich and started eating.

Satisfied, Kurt leaned back into the chair and took out another cigarette. That was the one and only good thing about having a mentally absent parent. They didn't care if you smoked. If his father was still around, Kurt would imagine that he would not have Kurt smoking anywhere, let alone in the living room.

Sometimes it made him sad to think of what he was missing out on with his father gone, deep inside of him, Kurt longed to be reprimanded. He wanted nothing more than for Burt to rip the cigarette out of his hand and ground him for eternity. But he never did.

Maybe that was why Kurt would always do his drugs without worrying whether or not his father's eyes were around. Maybe one day, he would reach through to him and his dad's eyes would finally be opened. But it didn't matter anyway, they were unseeing.

Kurt gathered the two plates and cleaned up. He had to remind himself that if he didn't, they would eventually be slowly buried alive. And he really didn't want to be on an episode of Hoarders.

One would think that the state would have taken him away a long time ago. It wasn't exactly customary for the child to take care of the adult. But that only reflected the stupidity of society. Ever since the accident, the government or someone sent over a social worker, to 'check on how things were going.' Over the years they came less and less and at some point stopped coming all together. Which suited Kurt just fine, he didn't need anyone coming in and disturbing him and his dad. They could get on just fine on their own.

Kurt had to admit that this was partly because of Carole Hudson. Three years ago she and Burt had began dating. And back then, Kurt didn't mind her coming over. As weird as it was for him to think back on it now, that had been the first time since his mom died that his family felt whole and happy. But when tragedy struck, Kurt wanted to never see that woman again, or her son, it reminded him too much of all he had lost. But that had never stopped the efforts of Carole. Whenever she could, she would come over and check up on Burt and restock their fridge. She now only did this when she knew Kurt would be out of the house. He hated her coming over and would rant about how he didn't need charity. But deep, way deep, down he was thankful for her unseen help.

"You remind me of my son."

Kurt's head snapped up from where it was intently studying a magazine.

"I am your son." He replied carefully, not daring to hope.

"No. No, Kurt's just a little boy." Burt said thoughtfully.

Kurt sighed again, embittered disappointment flowing through his veins. But at least he knew who Kurt was. It was a step up from most days.

Time passed and the two Hummels fell into silence before Burt spoke again: "You remind me of my son."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to you if you're reading! And if you _are_ reading then you should also leave a review. It's in that little box right down there. I want to know what you think, what you like, don't like... let me know! And thanks for clicking on my story! :) **


	6. Chapter 6

_Dear Journal,_

_It's that time of year again. The time when the air is heavily weighed down by the scent of disappointment and depression, overriding the stink of body odor from the walking piles of teenage lard. That's right journal, it's the start of another school year. Which means misery and dejection for the fatties that lumber around my hallways, and another national championship for me. There's just one thing that puts a bee in my bonnet, Journal. The __**glee club**__. Each time I try to quash that merry band of misfits, it just comes back stronger like a sexually ambiguous horror movie villain. Am I doing something wrong? Is it me Journal? Of course it's not me. It's__** Will Schuester. **__That curly headed muffin top has been suckling dry the money funds for too long now. How long must I wait until my full budget is restored? When will that curry loving Figgins realize how important it is for me to have those valuable tax payers dollars? Without my endorsements I can't buy airline tickets from a shady online provider stationed somewhere in the south pacific to fly my junior varsity Cheerios to nationals. And with no Cheerios at nationals I'll lose my endorsements and by losing my endorsements, I won't be able to fund outlandish routines that may or may not be approved by the national board of health and public safety. Or even worse- I won't be able to buy my hover craft and go reindeer shooting with Sarah Palin. Oh Journal, I feel I shall spend the rest of the day vibrating with wide irrational rage.__ But wait journal, my infinite genius has borne fruit once more. Just like a wart, I must go deep beneath the skin to eradicate the virus. What I need is an inside man, to cripple the club from within, waiting patiently until we strike. Glee club, prepare yourselves. You are about to board the Sue Sylvester Express. Destination: Horror!_

Sue Sylvester looked up from her desk, carelessly removing her glasses and tossing them onto her open book. She stood up and adjusted her red track suit and walked across her office, packed full of national championship trophies, to the window. With pursed lips, the cheerleading coach poked a finger through the blinds, surveying the school hallway with her ever present sense of superiority.

Sue Sylvester was on a mission. It was a simple one: destroy the glee club. After so many failed attempts, she was willing to do anything to achieve it, after all, Sue Sylvester _doesn't lose._ Nor does she give up. Her narrowed eyes scanned the crammed hallway, grazing over the stoners laughing in the corner, the jocks pounding on some nerd, the sluts and manwhores getting it on in the doorways, and the fatties stuffing their faces with food.

The bell rang and Sue watched the students scramble to class from behind her window. And with everyone gone, her beady eyes found the two people she was searching for. She strode out of her office and came up behind the pink headed girl and the tall boy.

"First of all," she said, nimbly snatching the cigarettes they had been holding and tossing them into a nearby trashcan, "Smoking kills. And second, it really does make you look cooler, doesn't it?"

"And what do you want Coach?" the girl sneered, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Well Q, Porcelain," she said nodding to each of them, "It's simple really. I hear tell that you two are the school's resident badasses" she used finger quotes for the word, "Which I take to mean you delight in the destruction of all life."

Porcelain raised an eyebrow.

"So" Sue continued, "I am offering you both the opportunity to help me **destroy** the **glee club**!"

"And... how exactly are we supposed to do that?" Porcelain asked sounding bored.

"You become members and obliterate it from the inner recesses." she pronouned clenching her fists in the air.

"Right... Sorry," Q said while Porcelain nodded in agreement with her, "But we'd rather actually _go_ to class than join the glee club."

And with that the two skanks spun on their heels and strode off in direction of the exit.

Sue let them go, surprisingly calm, she would get what she wanted in the end, it was simply a matter of time. She turned back into her office, muttering to herself, "I wonder if I can get the hobbit to join my ranks..."

* * *

At any given moment there were up to five things on Blaine Anderson's mind. But as of late there was just one thing that that occupied his thoughts.

Not a thing, but a _one, _someone, a boy to be exact. The boy he had met only yesterday. Well, sort of met. He still didn't even know the guys name. How could someone he didn't even know captivate him so? Blaine had not been able to stop thinking about him since the moment they first ran into each other- or rather when Blaine almost ran _over_ him. He kept replaying their encounter over and over, longing for the next time he would be able to see the boy. He knew this would eventually cause a problem- he just hadn't realized how soon.

Blaine was at his locker when luck struck. Since yesterday his eyes had been unconsciously scanning the hallways, hoping to catch sight of the boy again. Well all those efforts had finally paid off. There was the boy, just as stunning as Blaine found him yesterday. The tall guy was leaning against the lockers, smoking. He wore dark clothing that was stylishly ripped in a few places and his hair was streaked with pink.

But his view of the boy was suddenly blocked and instead he got an eye full of Rachel Berry.

"Blaine." She said merrily, "I'm glad I found you. Since you're now an official member of the New Directions, I thought it pertinent to-"

But the rest of her speech drowned out to Blaine, he wasn't paying attention. Instead he looked around her and recovered his display of the lean and muscular boy, who had, thankfully, not moved. It wasn't that he didn't like Rachel, he did like her. And he was thankful to have her as a friend at this new school, but at the moment, hot guy bent over against the lockers in jeans that were way too tight to be legal, beat out loud girl in knee highs.

"Blaine! Are you even listening to me?"

Blaine blinked as Rachel snapped her fingers in his face, but he continued to stare at the boy.

Rachel followed his gaze, looking from Blaine to the boy and back again. She sighed.

"Oh Blaine." she said, shaking her head. And Blaine had no choice but to tear his reluctant eyes away from Hot Guy and pay attention to his friend.

"What?" he retorted, slightly annoyed.

"Blaine," Rachel repeated in such a gentle voice that Blaine's anger seemed to ebb away. "I know who you're looking at, and you need to stop it." Blaine only raised an innocent eyebrow, but let Rachel continue her oration.

"You cannot get involved with a guy like Kurt Hummel, in any way."

_Kurt Hummel. _So that was his name. Blaine instantly fell in love with it.

"I'm serious Blaine. He's a skank, he goes against everything we stand for. He'll do nothing but hurt you. His reputation here is notorious..." Rachel seemed to fumble, apparently unable to find words that could accurately describe the horror that was Kurt Hummel.

"He's a bad guy." she settled on, somewhat lamely. "Look Blaine, I like you, I really do and I consider us to be on our way to becoming great friends. And I can see that look on your face."

"What look?" Blaine replied indignantly.

"I can tell that you like him." She said bluntly, and he didn't try to prove her otherwise. "Don't pursue it. Kurt Hummel doesn't date _anyone_."

Blaine's heart fell at this. Of course Kurt Hummel would never be interested in Blaine. Someone like Kurt could never be gay. Not in a million years. Blaine mentally smacked himself for not realizing it earlier.

His disappointment seemed to show, and from the look on Rachel's face, she appeared to take that as his compliance to her words. "I'm sorry," she said kindly, "But trust me, it's for the best." She hugged him and then was walking away as the bell signaling the start of class rang out.

Blaine let out a glum puff of air and flung his head back onto the locker, wincing as it hit the metal a little too hard.

He let his eyes flicker back over to where Hot Guy -Kurt- he corrected himself, had been. Fortunately he was still there, seemingly having had ignored the bell as he had, only now his back was to Blaine, giving him a clear view of his ass. That tight little ass in those pants that looked like they were painted on, showing off every nook, every crevice, every curve, every bulge.

Blaine shook his head, he couldn't think like that anymore. There was literally no hope for him to ever be with him in _that_ way. But there was still the issue of the fact that Blaine was still undeniably enticed by him, and not just in a sexual way.

So why couldn't Blaine be his friend? There was no harm in being friends was there? Of course not. From that moment forward Blaine vowed to ignore all attractions he had, he wanted to be around Kurt, and if the only way he could was to be just friends, Blaine would take it, no questions asked.

Without really thinking, Blaine found himself walking over to Kurt. He straightened his bowtie and adjusted his suspenders. One thing Blaine prided himself on was his incredible will power, and already he was staying true to his vow, with no problems. That was until Kurt had bent down.

_Shit, _Blaine thought panicked, _he's bending over, oh sweet lord, that ass. _

Now all Blaine could see of the other boy was his ass that was sticking up in the air. Blaine was trying, he really was, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. And so he walked straight into a locker that had been left open. This caused Kurt to straighten up and turn around. Blaine ignored the pain in his face, unfazed. Because Kurt was making eye contact with him. The other boy wasn't saying anything, only quirked an eyebrow.

"Hi!" Blaine said brightly, intent on becoming friends with Kurt, even if it was the last thing he did.

Kurt remained silent.

"I'm Blaine, remember? From yesterday? You helped me find the choir room?"

Still nothing.

"Well, I wanted to thank you again." Blaine grinned, undeterred by Kurt's lack of response.

Kurt only rolled his eyes and reassumed his position against the lockers, looking as though he'd like nothing more than for Blaine to disappear. But Blaine only moved next to him, leaning against the lockers too.

Kurt looked over, surprised to see that Blaine was still there. Apparently if he ignored people long enough, they would simply go away. "What do you want!?" he asked irritably, his voice slightly muffled from talking behind his cigarette.

"Nothing," Blaine smiled at him. He thought it would be too weird to say _"To be your friend."_

A few more moments passed in silence until Kurt asked again, "Are you going to leave any time soon?"

"Probably not."

Some more time passed before Kurt said, "I'm Kurt."

And Blaine beamed.

* * *

From behind her office window, Sue Sylvester watched the two boys interact. A new plan formulating in her head.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Anything you recognize- it's probably not mine. **


	7. Chapter 7

Ever since that day when Kurt was semi-civil to the new kid, he had started talking to him more and more. Just a simple 'hello' if ever Blaine saw him in the hallways at first, to more 'casual' run ins. It seemed like the more Kurt became aware of his existence, the more he saw of him. And it was really starting to get on Kurt's nerves. But at least Suspenders wasn't going out of his way to stalk Kurt, he wouldn't have been able to deal with that.

When he was little his dad had always warned him about feeding the deer in their back yard, because even if you fed them once, they would keep coming back. Now Kurt finally understood.

He hadn't even been that nice! All he had done was tell the annoying nerd his name before stalking off, leaving Suspenders by the lockers.

Unfortunately Suspenders seemed to take that as the opening salvo of their impending friendship, which was one sided on his end to begin with.

Kurt had wanted to stay _away_ from the new kid, but now he was seeing him more than he could ever want. Quinn, the bitch, would only stand on the sidelines watching with an evil smirk on her face as Kurt tracked through the hallways, deliberately ignoring the blabbering in his ear that came from behind.

That was another thing. Suspenders was a glee kid. He was a walking and talking epitome of everything Kurt stood against. The constant trailing by Blaine had gotten so bad that Kurt had resorted to actually attending some of his classes. This somewhat backfired on him. He walked into French class only to see that he shared it with Blaine.

None of this surprised him. The universe always wanted him miserable, so what was there to be startled from? He wanted to stay away from Blaine. The universe only shoved them closer together. Big shocker there.

Currently Kurt was sitting against the chain link fence underneath the bleachers. It was still early morning, so the sun wasn't fully risen yet. The bleachers were the only place that offered some small amount of shade anyway.

He had his earbuds in place snugly, cranking up his music nice and loud and closed his eyes. Totally cut off from the rest of the world- just the way he liked it.

Kurt didn't know how much time had passed until he felt the strange sensation like he was being watched. And he didn't have any doubt as to whom. Against his better judgment, Kurt cracked an eye open to be met with the smiling face of Blaine Anderson opposite him, wearing a bright orange bowtie and that obnoxious smile.

"Seriously." Kurt groaned, "_Why_ are you _here_?"

Blaine shrugged. "You seem like you need a friend" Blaine replied with pure and brittle honesty in his voice, "I only ever see you with that pink girl-"

"Quinn."

"Right. I figured you could use someone else- you're always sad looking."

Kurt opened his mouth to protest but Blaine cut him off, "No really! You're all broody and... and woebegone."

Kurt smirked and rolled his eyes at his word choice.

"I don't understand you" Blaine continued, "How can someone not enjoy life? I just don't get it."

"Yeah well, that makes two of us." Kurt said, replacing his earbuds and putting his music back on.

"You know that if someone can hear your music when you're wearing headphones it means you're music is too loud and that it can damage your permanent hearing."

"Good" Kurt glared, "That means I don't have to listen to you."

"Isn't it a little hot for you to be wearing a leather jacket?"

"Aren't you a little young to be wearing that bowtie?"

"Well aren't you-" Blaine started smirking, but Kurt had had enough. He wanted to get away. Though it seemed slightly unreasonable to want to run away from the person who was only trying to be his friend, Kurt declared himself an undeniably unreasonable being. He stood up and began making his way towards the parking lot.

"Hey where are you going?" Blaine had stood up too.

"Home." replied Kurt without looking back.

"But, but school hasn't even started yet!" Blaine cried out.

"Call it a sick day." Kurt rolled his eyes.

When he was half away across the parking lot, Kurt chanced a glance backwards. Satisfied to see Suspenders making his way towards the school building. But in some far remote part of him, he felt a sliver of disappointment that Blaine hadn't followed him.

Kurt, true to his word, returned home. He went straight to his bed intent on sleeping all day. He crawled under the covers and blocked out the rest of the world.

* * *

_A young boy stood motionless. He was surrounded by many people all moving very fast but he took no notice of them. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. The shouts and screams were distorted and muffled. The boy looked down to see that one of his sneakers had been torn off and he could see his bare foot covered in red. He could register the gravel of the street from underneath, and yet felt no pain. In front of him smoke was billowing into the sky with sinister fluidity. Soon the whole sky was blackened. Heat. He could feel lots of heat. The heat hurt his face, like when he sat by the fireplace for too long. Another explosion blasted before him, giving him more unpleasant sensations of heat, causing him to flinch. The sound now seemed to completely fade out, leaving the young boy with a felling of diminished awareness of being. But he still did not move from where he was standing. His eyes were glued on the car, or what was left of the car, that was swelling out flames. Waiting. He was waiting for his mommy to come out of the car, to come and take him away from this scary place. But she didn't come. A strong pair of hands grabbed the boy from behind, and he remained limp against the hold, still scanning for his mommy. And then he saw her, but she was not his mommy, she didn't look like his mommy, she was covered in red, her pretty dress ripped and her glowing eyes closed. "Mommy?" He whimpered as he was being dragged backwards from her. "Mommy!" He tried again louder, the men in the white suits were taking her away, he couldn't let them. "MOMMY!" His bloodcurdling scream cut through the air, but the hold on him only tightened and he was being heaved further and further away. The boy dropped his head in defeat and for the first time noticed the big piece of metal that was sticking out of his tummy, staining his white shirt a deep red. And then everything went black. _

Kurt's eyes snapped open through the darkness, he gasped for air, sitting bolt up in bed, heaving great wheezes of breath as he felt the beads of sweat drip throughout his hair.

A nightmare.

Though not uncommon, but varyingly present, nightmares were no stranger for Kurt Hummel. This coming as no surprise, for there were a plethora of hidden secrets that came out of their box to haunt him at night.

Asleep. The state at which he was most vulnerable. You can't control life, and you could control your dreaming state even less. However pleasing it would be for Kurt to just rest down his head and go to sleep forgetting about the troubles of everyday life, those blissful moments of unconsciousness could occasionally be ruined by a nightmare. It seemed like tonight would be one of those nights.

Kurt always had a hard time getting back to sleep after a nightmare. He never could seem to calm down enough for sleep to reclaim its hold. So he just laid in his bed, watching the moonlight dance across the walls.

It had been a long time since he had consciously thought about his mom and that day. Instinctively, he ran a finger across the long scar on his upper abdomen, as if searching to make sure it was still there. Kurt felt a single tear fall, followed by a cascade of more at the realization that he could not look to his father for comfort.

As he lay there, tears streaking his face, Kurt desperately tried to think of something 'nice' and 'happy' to calm the sudden rush of sadness. He racked through his brains as his eyes closed. Oddly, the last thing he thought about before drifting off to sleep, was Blaine Anderson.


	8. Chapter 8

Quinn Fabray furtively unlocked the door to the Hummel house. She had snuck in so many times that going for the key hidden in the flower pot was second nature now. She didn't know why Kurt always kept the door locked, but even so, it'd never keep her out. Quinn slipped inside and closed the door behind her, locking it once again, as per Kurt's request.

Speaking of Kurt, she was going to fucking kill him.

Quinn went straight to her friend's room, opening the door to reveal a sleeping Kurt on top of his bed, the covers in a messy pile on the floor.

"Really?" she scoffed and slammed the door behind her. Kurt didn't stir, he was a pretty heavy sleeper when he actually did sleep.

Quinn plopped herself on the edge of the bed and stared at her friend for a moment. His usually immaculate hair was muddled in a comical mess, sticking up in every which way. His gray drawstring sweatpants were hanging low on his hips. He was also shirtless, revealing his toned and muscular lean figure.

It was true, Quinn thought, that all the hot guys were either taken or gay.

"Wake up bitch!" she tried, but Kurt only shoved his face further into the pillow.

_Okay, time for a different approach. _

Quinn kicked off her boots and slinked her way into his arms. With a smirk on her lips, she slowly began to trail kisses up his chest, getting satisfaction from the little smile that played on her friend's mouth. Quinn flipped herself so that she was now straddling him, "I'd totally do you if you weren't gay," she whispered in his ear, rubbing her hands up and down his chest. At this Kurt's eyes snapped open. He stared at his friend, blinking, but his face seemed unsurprised.

"Ew." he said finally.

"Aw, don't be like that," Quinn pouted, nibbling on his ear, "I don't bite, unless you ask me to."

"I was having a good dream." Kurt groaned as he stretched.

"Was it about the new boy?" Quinn asked wiggling her eyebrows.

"Get off of me." Kurt snapped, and Quinn rolled off without complaint so that she plunked down next to him, "I don't like being touched." He sighed. "What are you even doing here, Q?"

"Um excuse me bitch," Quinn said getting up, her back to Kurt as she fixed her pink hair, "But it's already 2:00. Where the hell have _you_ been all day?" She whipped around to face him, one sassy hand on her hip. "And besides that, where the hell were you _yesterday_?"

"Mmm" Kurt hummed, snuggling back into bed and hugging his pillow, "I was sleeping."

"For two whole days?"

"I'm sleepy."

"That." Quinn rolled her eyes, "Is obvious. Get your ass up, We're going out."

"Where?" Kurt whined.

"Out. We've got stuff to talk about." Quinn barked, "Now get dressed already. Or do you want me to stay and watch? I'm not opposed to that."

Her response was a pillow to the face.

Kurt glared at the door Quinn had just walked out of. The truth was that he _did_ have a dream about the new kid. And he certainly didn't want to think about it. It was his own fault for thinking of him before he fell asleep, albeit semi-unconsciously. Kurt had already blocked out last night's moment of weakness. If he was being honest with himself, crying was the one thing that could embody vulnerability.

He was supposed to be _Kurt Hummel: _skank, the guy people avoided eye contact with, the one the bullies left alone, the badass that all the teachers feared. Now he was the guy who cried at night and dreamed of the nerdy boy.

It wasn't like it was even much of a dream, it was just Bowtie's face swirling around in his mind before the dreams shifted. Nothing major.

Kurt sighed and ran a hand through his already messy brown hair. What was happening to him?

Who was he becoming? The lonely boy that felt so alone.

No.

He had lived like this for years. And he was fine. He was _fine._ He'd been fine. Why all of a sudden was the encounter with the new kid causing all his insecurities to tumble out. Kurt was broken, he knew that. But he had taped himself together fairly well, and it had lasted him nicely. Until now. Why was he falling apart? Why now?

Kurt groaned in frustration and flung himself backwards onto his bed, ignoring Quinn's shout for him to hurry up. Seemed like his friend had caught him at a good moment, a few pops of narcotics and he'd be spilling his guts.

Which was a good thing for him, really, because he could really use some ecstasy.

By 3:00 Kurt was dressed and ready and Quinn had taken them to G's Spot. For a night club, with a highly unfortunate name, it was always pretty active in the afternoon. It was also way outside of town, which meant that authorities were rare as were the I.D. checks.

The two skanks liked to come here whenever they needed to get away, physically and mentally. It was a relevantly small building. Kurt once heard that it used to be a chapel. Talk about your irony.

Like any typical night club slash bar slash drug ring, the lights were always dim and the music loud. There was always cushions and bean bag chairs scattered around for people it sit in and do their drugs and or drinking, and to pad those who passed out.

It was a pretty nice place. If you block out the drinking, the drugs, and the fights.

Kurt sat against their customary bean bag chairs while Quinn went off to get whatever she was getting. At times like these Kurt didn't really care what he was taking, as long as it took his mind off of his troubles... and Blaine.

And it did, it really did.

"So," Quinn was back, "Care to tell me what's going on with you and Poodle Head?"

"If there was anything to tell, Q," Kurt said lighting a cigarette, "I'd tell you."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Quinn snapped, she was full on glaring at him now, and Kurt felt a burning sensation from where her green eyes pierced him. "Kurt, I can sense the vibes." Her voice softened, "If you think you like him, I don't know why you don't go for it."

Kurt looked away, pretending not to listen to what she was saying.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" she asked in a gentle yet blunt tone.

"Do what?" He retorted, blowing out a ring of smoke.

"You're torturing yourself."

Kurt remained silent, not liking where this conversation was going.

"You need to stop punishing yourself, it wasn't your fault."

"Drop it."

"But, Kurt-"

"I said stop, okay?"

"Fine." Quinn snapped, raising her hands in surrender.

"Is that all?" Kurt sighed after a long silence.

"All what?"

"All that you wanted to talk about."

"Oh, yeah" Quinn said, filling her glass of Plesaur with some sort of powder that Kurt didn't feel the energy to identify.

Kurt raised an eyebrow, "And what was wrong with saying that in my bedroom? Why'd we have to drive all the way to G's Spot?"

Quinn shrugged and downed her glass. "I wanted to get high, so shoot me."

"Gladly."

Nevertheless, Kurt rested his head on Quinn's shoulder as she kept ingesting whatever, suddenly not really feeling like anything other than his cigarettes.

Besides, someone had to be the designated driver.


	9. Chapter 9

"I haven't seen you in a few days."

"So?" Kurt instantly regretted opening his mouth. He knew he shouldn't have come to class. After a weekend of hanging out, or rather getting high, with Quinn, the Skank had made the imprudent to actually go to school. Not because he particularly wanted to, but he'd sooner attend school than failing out and being stuck in this dead end town for another year. The only problem with this was Blaine. He seemed to be the subject of quite a few problems lately. Most unfortunately for Kurt, Blaine also happened to occupy the seat next to him in French class. And while Kurt was content to just put his head down and sleep, Bowtie insisted on striking up conversation. "What's it to you?"

Blaine shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. "I just-" But Kurt cut him off, "Just stop it, okay? Don't you understand that you're supposed to be afraid of me? So stop trying to be my _friend _or whatever and just, just leave me al-"

"Hummel! Anderson!"

Kurt groaned internally and twisted his face around to glare at the offending yeller, the French teacher. The middle aged woman's face slightly faltered under the penetrating glower of the Skank, every teacher knew there were some students, Kurt Hummel being one, that you should just leave alone. Apparently this teacher was trying her luck, because she regained her composure as the authoritative figure of the room and said "Thank you for volunteering to be the first pair."

"Wait, pair?" Kurt said, straightening up, "What pair?"

"For your term project." Madame French teacher responded.

"Term project?" Kurt made a face, he was drawing a blank.

"Yes Mr. Hummel, the term project I just assigned, the one due in two weeks. The one you shall being working on with Mr. Anderson here." The teacher seemed to throw a sympathetic look in Blaine's direction, but Kurt didn't even notice.

"I do _not_ want to work on a project with him." Kurt finalized. To his left Blaine looked offended, but Kurt didn't care. "Can't I just take a zero or something?"

The woman narrowed her eyes, "Not if you want to graduate this year."

_Damn bitch knows how to play her cards._

Kurt slammed back against his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and said nothing, but from the look on the teacher's face, she knew he knew she had won this battle.

Blaine on the other hand looked half like he had just been granted visa rights to the fucking moon, and half way ready to piss himself.

In rebellion, Kurt stayed stony silent and unresponsive for the rest of the class.

When the bell rang Kurt was the first one out of the room. Regrettably for him, Blaine was the second.

"Hey Kurt!" Blaine and his cheerful disposition were bounding up beside him.

Kurt kept walking, thinking that perhaps maybe this time, Blaine would take the hint and leave him alone.

Unfortunately Blaine was either the most oblivious person on the planet, or he simply didn't care.

Nevertheless, Blaine followed Kurt all the way back to his locker. Earlier that week Kurt had inopportunely learned that Blaine's locker neighbored his, this only meant that there were even more opportunities for Kurt to run into Blaine. And more opportunities for Blaine to try to strike up conversation between them.

"Um..." Blaine was saying, trying to gain the attention of the other boy. "So about that project..."

Kurt rolled his eyes and kept himself busy by rearranging the books inside his locker, not that he ever used them.

"Do you think we could work on it at your house?"

Kurt's eyes widened at the thought of Blaine being in his house. Near his father. Where every secret he had ever harbored would be on display.

"No!" he said quickly, whipping around to face Blaine, "Uh, I mean... no. Erm, we uh have termites."

Usually Kurt was far better at coming up with, at the very least, adequate lies, but there was something about the way that those hazel orbs bore into his own that caused him to falter.

If Blaine knew he was lying, which he probably did, he didn't let on. He was thoughtful like that. He just shrugged sympathetically and wasted no time in sporting another one of his blinding smiles. "Well I'm sorry that we can't work at my house, we're still getting construction done on it, you know since we just moved in." He went on to tell Kurt about the circumstances of his move from Westerville and more than Kurt cared to hear. He would have gone on telling the skank his whole life story had Kurt not raised a hand to silence him.

"Stop OK?" He said "I don't really care. We're not friends Blaine. We can't be friends, and we never will. So please, just stop with the friendly act and leave me alone."

Blaine looked like he had been slapped, and for some reason that Kurt couldn't place, he actually felt bad about that.

Blaine smiled sadly, though it was obvious he was still hurt, "I know." he said simply, "I know you don't want to be friends. But... but I want to be your something. Maybe we could just be locker neighbors or table buddies? Even if it's just project partners."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. It was going to be a lot harder to shake this kid than he thought. And as much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to say anything to the contrary.

Blaine seemed to pick up on that too. He smiled a little, "Think about it?" And then he was walking away.

Groaning, Kurt slammed his locker and took out another cigarette. As much as he wanted to avoid Blaine. He knew he couldn't keep himself away for long. They still had this project to work on together. And a tiny, tiny part of Kurt, was happy about that.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, they're really encouraging! **


	10. Chapter 10

Later that week found Blaine Anderson alone in his bedroom. His first few weeks at McKinley had, so far, been a success. Classes went as well as could be expected, glee club was great, and he had even made some friends, along with a new best friend. The only thing that Blaine was certain and yet oh so unsure about, was of course, Kurt Hummel. As much as he felt he knew the skank, there were parts of him that were still very much a mystery to Blaine. Sure, in the beginning there was that initial physical attraction, but Blaine wasn't as shallow as to let that govern his entire impending friendship with the other boy. It was much, much more than that now. It felt to Blaine like a deep emotional connection, admittedly one that was most likely not requited. Blaine was a romantic and liked to believe in love at first sight. But he never really understood what that meant until now.

What?

Blaine shook his head rigorously _Stop it _he told himself sternly. Love? What was he talking about, love? _Way to jump the gun on that Anderson..._ He thought bitterly. All that would do was cause more trouble. He hated how enthusiastic and devoted his feelings were for Kurt when he wasn't even sure of what they were himself. But there was still some inexplicable draw to Kurt that Blaine had. He couldn't explain it. There was something about him, Blaine knew that there was so much more underneath the badboy's rough exterior. There was more to the other boy than that outcast layer, Blaine could just see it. And it was that which was drawing him in, longing to get closer and closer to this enigmatic boy who had captured Blaine's attention and his heart since the day he first saw him. And Blaine knew, how exactly, he wasn't sure, but he knew that one way or another Kurt Hummel was far from being gone in his life any time soon.

Blaine whined pathetically from his spot on the bed. It really had been a bad idea to dwell on his thoughts of Kurt whilst he was trying to do homework. That, and the _Grease_ soundtrack that was playing in the background was a horrible combination.

_Guess mine is not the first heart broken_

_My eyes not the first to cry_

_I'm not the first to know_

_There's just no getting over you_

_I know I'm just a fool who's willing_

_To sit around and wait for you_

_But baby can't you see_

_There's nothing else for me to do_

_I'm hopelessly devoted to you_

_But now, there's nowhere to hide_

_Since you pushed my love aside_

_I'm out of my head_

_Hopelessly devoted to you_

Groaning, Blaine buried his head in his hands, cursing the heavens, for this had to be some cosmic sign. Becoming thoroughly frustrated at his _hopeless_ situation, the teen threw his statistics book hard across the room. He expected to hear a thud but instead his ears were met with a shriek. A very female shriek. On the floor was his stats books and next to it were a pair of knee high clad legs. Blaine looked up to see none other than Rachel Berry in his doorway.

Rachel looked somewhat beside herself about her less than civilized greeting. "Well, at least it didn't hit me and break my talent." she said, flipping her hair and crossing the threshold into his room. Rachel Berry, aforementioned best friend, was the one person, other than Kurt, who Blaine felt a real connection with. Maybe it was their mutual love of performing, but Blaine really liked her. If there was a single thing he _didn't_ like about the girl, besides her atrocious sense of fashion, it would be that she had told him to stay away from Kurt Hummel. Come to think of it, she was the only one who had in fact even talked about him. Anyone else with whom Blaine brought up the subject of Kurt would become unresponsive, as if fearful of subsequent retribution. Which of course only made Blaine want to know more about the skank and why everyone was so afraid of him.

"Hey Rachel," Blaine smiled apologetically. He didn't bother asking how exactly Rachel had gotten into his house, he had learned on the very first day of glee club that if Rachel Berry wanted something, you could be sure as hell she'd get it. That was one reason why Blaine liked her, he wished he was like that, because then he could get Kurt to be his friend. And once again, his thoughts were turning to the skank.

"Blaine!" she greeted with her million watt smile on full display. She bounded closer over to him and snapped her fingers. "Come on let's go! Finn's waiting in the car."

"Huh? Go? Go where?" Blaine was a little confused, he didn't remember making any plans for today.

"Just come _on_!" Rachel insisted, tugging on his arm with a pout on her face, "It's about time we hang out together! You'll love it, I promise."

Blaine made no further objections, as an argument with Rachel Berry couldn't possibly end well for him. This girl was lucky he was her friend.

Within a few short moments, Blaine was in the back of Finn Hudson's car with Rachel, going Lord only knows. Finn had greeted him with his customary refrain "Sup dude!" and a fist bump. At school Blaine had observed that where ever Rachel went, Finn followed. The couple was practically attached at the hip. Guess that was no different outside of school. And then they were all on their way.

"So where are we going?"

* * *

"Bowling?!"

Kurt said the word disdainfully.

"Q, what are we doing here?"

Evidently, the pink girl thought the best way to spend a Saturday afternoon was at the Lima Bowling Lanes...? Kurt knew that there was next to nothing to do in any small Ohio town, but bowling? Seriously? There were just so many things wrong with the whole idea of _bowling_. First of all, you had to wear other peoples shoes which was just plain disgusting. And then you had to stick your fingers into the little holes that probably harbored millions of diseases. That was not the type of hole Kurt wanted his fingers inside.

"It's Deshawn's hot stop for the week." Quinn responded, looking around the dingy little building.

Kurt pulled a confused face, "I thought Deshawn and his goons were set up at G's Spot?"

Quinn shook her pink head. "Not for now, I think they got pushed out by a rival gang."

Deshawn Thomas and his infamous gang of swaggering drug dealers. Deshawn was one of those kids who was conflicted with his own ethnicity. He was clearly white, but thought he was a black gangster 'from da hood' and acted like it too, albeit it pathetically erroneous. Deshawn could always been seen with his 'bling', a lopsided hat, and baggy pants. He thought it made him look tough; Kurt thought he looked ridiculous. Deshawn wasn't even his real name, Kurt thought it was something like Charles, but he had never cared enough to ask. Overall, Kurt found Deshawn Thomas to be an incongruous and farcical poser. The only reason he put up with the guy was because of Quinn. Kurt wasn't exactly certain of what it was Quinn would get from the dealer, but whatever it was, Kurt knew he needed none of it. He had once had some of it when Quinn first got some. The effects had been less than favorable for the male skank and he vowed off the stuff forever, but it was a different story for Quinn.

"So we don't have to actually _bowl_, do we?" Kurt asked with a wary glace at her.

"_No_!" Quinn breathed out, "God, you're such a baby. Just stay here while I go talk with Deshawn." And with that she was on her way over to the gross bowling lane bathrooms. Kurt didn't want to let her go alone, Deshawn may be a bumbling idiot, but they both knew he could be violent.

* * *

"Sorry that the roller skating ring was closed guys, but _trust_ me- this is the next best thing!"

Blaine followed Rachel and Finn into the bowling lanes. The place smelled of cheap pizza and stingy disinfectant. Blaine was thinking that Rachel needed to reevaluate her concept of fun as he looked around the place. But then again, this was Ohio and it was a sad yet true fact that bowling didn't fall low on the list of fun things to do. And even Blaine had to admit that hanging out with his friend and her boyfriend doing something as whimsical as bowling sure beat homework.

Rachel and Finn had left to go get them some shoes when Blaine caught a whiff of something over the smell of the bowling alley. It was the smell of smoke, peppermint, jasmine shampoo, and a hint of cologne. A smell he had come to associate with Kurt Hummel.

He couldn't be far. It was a small place. Blaine not so subtly glanced over the place until his eyes landed on the skank. He was in a corner, a lit cigarette in between his lips and his chin on his knees. He looked dreamy to Blaine. And by the subtle narrowing and flickering of his eyes, Blaine could tell that Kurt had seen him.

Blaine was thinking of going up to him, but something inside stopped him. Instead he simply watched as Quinn emerged from the back, stuffing something into her pocket. He watched as Kurt flung an arm over her and he watched as they left the building.

He wasn't watching when Kurt looked back.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts :) **


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